The Longsword Chronicles: Book 01 - King of Ashes by GJ Kelly

Author:GJ Kelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-04-11T05:00:00+00:00

Gwyn did her best, but even she could not thunder down Threlland's hills and across Juria's plains while they lay beneath drifting snow banks that came sometimes to her chest. She could sense Gawain's anguish, and shared it, and pushed through the drifts valiantly, and pressed on with as much speed as could be mustered in the dreadful conditions.

Gawain slept in the saddle, and ate frak in the saddle when hunger stole upon him. Gwyn practically walked in her sleep, and the sack of oats from which Gawain refilled her nosebag soon diminished, and she had to make do with tufts of frozen grass poking through the snow and ice when they reached the plains of Juria.

Gawain headed due west, deciding to take the shortest route to Elvendere's forest instead of taking the more southerly route to Gan's province near Ferdan. The sooner they were beneath the canopy of trees, the quicker he could reach Elayeen's side. That she still lived, he never questioned. To contemplate otherwise reduced the world to black tints seen through aquamire rage which took hours to dissipate.

They pushed on, relentlessly, and when a blizzard blew up, the wind northerly and blasting cruel sleet and snow upon them, Gawain simply adjusted Gwyn's blankets and his own cloak, and kept the wind to his right side, using it to guide his route ever westward. It was like being in those dark tunnels beneath the Teeth; time had no meaning, neither sun nor moon nor stars to tell time by.

At length, chilled to the bone in spite of Jurian brandy, dark shapes loomed out of the driving snow before them. Trees. Elvendere. Gawain dismounted and led Gwyn into the shelter they afforded from both wind and snow, and set about rubbing her down as best his own frozen hands would permit. Ice clung to her, and she shivered violently, but her eyes were blue fire, her anguish driving her through cold and hunger. She knew where she was, remembered the children, knew that Gawain feared for someone here, and here she had brought him.

In truth, it was warmer in the forest than on the plains. The shield the trees provided against the bitter wind and the snow made it feel like spring in Elvendere, though snow still covered the ground in patches and their breath plumed before them.

Some hours later, deep in the gloom within the forest, elves stepped from behind trees to bar their path. They were unknown to Gawain, and he to them it seemed, for arrows were nocked in their bows, and held at the ready.

"Eem frith am Gan-thal," Gawain announced. And then added, "Eem throth am Elayeen-thalin."

At this, the elves looked stunned, and shared uneasy glances.

"Where is Elayeen?" Gawain asked softly, but received no reply.

He stepped forward. "Where is Elayeen?" he asked again, and the black tints began to edge his field of vision.

The elves stood agog, until Gawain unsheathed the longsword. Its blade seemed to hum and crackle as it swept a lazy arc through the chill air.

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